


Ain't a DJ Gonna Save My Soul

by StaticCat



Series: Killjoys Never Die [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Brotherly Affection, Dancing, Flirting, Fluff, Hand Jobs, House Party, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sex on a Car, Smut, it's pretty sweary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22139698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaticCat/pseuds/StaticCat
Summary: Zone parties tended to be flamboyant affairs, full of color and life. Living outrageously felt like another way to stick it to BL/ind and their stark definition of good and bad.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Jet Star/Party Poison (Danger Days), Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Killjoys Never Die [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593550
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	1. Get Off the Dance Floor

**Author's Note:**

> Lots and lots of smut ahead. Also plot. Cover your ears.  
> (This has a bit of a different feel if you read Part 1 of the series first. Also explains some things. But that one is a bit of a downer.)  
> Edited as of 01/25/2020, hopefully for the last time. No plot changes, just better writing, better pov's, etc.

Cherri Cola had introduced Jet Star to the gang as “a friend from the zones.” No one asked any questions, simply accepted him into the fold. 

Party Poison started making more frequent trips out to Cherri’s radio station where Jet was staying. He was quiet, a little unsure of himself, and Party guessed that he hadn’t been in the zones for long. But when he relaxed, and his personality started to show, he had a gentle manner and bright smile that drew Party in like a moth to flame. It was hard not to wonder where he came from, what his story was. But he knew better than to ask anyone that question out in the zones, so instead he took what he could get. 

One morning, Party found Kobra Kid leaning against the Trans Am as he left the diner to load gear into the car. 

“So.” 

“Yes, Kobes?”

“Headin’ out to Cherri’s again?”

Party rolled his eyes. “No, I was thinking of going to Vegas for the weekend, try my hand at some craps.” 

“Heh, craps!” Fun Ghoul popped out of the backseat, a shiteating grin on his face. 

“Dammit Ghoul! What did I tell you about trying to scare me? I’ll punch you in the fucking throat next time!”

Ghoul cackled and wrapped his arms around Kobra’s neck. “Can’t resist. It’s just too fucking easy.”

Party started towards Ghoul with his fist raised, and Ghoul jumped from the back seat and darted away into the garage.

“Keep a leash on your gremlin,” Party growled. 

“Hey, you know I can’t control him,” Kobra said, gazing after their friend. “Besides, life is more fun with him around.” 

Party hated that he was right about that. Kobra and Party had tried to live by themselves in the diner, but it wasn’t until Ghoul moved in that the place really felt like home. But dammit if Party was admitting that to Ghoul.

“I’ve got to return this record to Cherri. Told him I’d have it back to him by tonight’s broadcast.” 

Kobra raised his eyebrows. “Whatever you say, Poison.” 

Party sighed dramatically. “Fucking FINE. I’m going to check out Jet Star. Happy, you juvie?"

Kobra shrugged. "I was just gonna suggest you invite him to Hot Chimp's party tonight. Show Pony is co-hosting so you know it'll be a kink-fest."

"I dunno if I wanna, like, scare the guy, you know?" Party simultaneously blushed and salivated at the idea of seeing Jet at one of Pony's infamous costume parties. 

"Hey, just a thought. If he says no, he says no. Ghoul and I will both be there though, so, diner's free."

Party tipped his sunglasses down his nose to look at him. "Shit Kobes, you trying to hook your brother up or what?" 

"Just looking out for him, that's all."

"Whatever. Hug me, dork."

Kobra rolled his eyes, but he really still relished every hug he could give his brother. Party had worked out some of his guilt issues, so Kobra would never bring it up, but he still woke up crying from dreams where Party was in the BL/ind mind fog and didn't recognize Kobra. Holding his brother was a very real reminder that Party was here, with him, and wasn't going anywhere.

Kobra pulled away and teased, "Now go get yer may'un."

"Ugh. You're such a shithead." Party climbed in the car and then leaned over the passenger seat to add, "Love ya, Kobes."

The knot in Kobra's stomach that appeared whenever his brother left tightened. "Love you too, P."

The Trans Am pulled away and sped off towards the east. 

"He'll be okay," Ghoul said softly, appearing next to him and slipping his hand into Kobra's. 

"Yeah I know. Will this feeling ever fucking go away?"

"Probably not." Ghoul raised Kobra's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "But it'll keep getting better."

\--

Party pulled up to Cherri's station and couldn't resist the desire to slam on the brakes with a crank of the wheel, kicking up a cloud of dust. At least the dirt was fun for something.

Cherri had two fans set up in the station--for the equipment, he said--which made it marginally less oppressive inside. He was in his chair listening to Jet strum an old acoustic guitar that was missing its E string. When Party opened the door, Jet abruptly stopped playing and looked up. The shy smile he flashed at Party made his knees go weak.

"Man, you've gotta quit being so self conscious and let other people hear you," Cherri scolded. "You're good."

Jet rolled his eyes and ignored him, turning to Party. "What's good today, Poison?"

"Same old, same old," he replied with a shrug, dropping his bag next to him. "Ghoul thinks it's gonna rain in the next few days, though."

"How that kid has such an affinity for reading the 'sphere, I'll have no idea. Seems the fucking same to me," Cherri said, throwing his hands up.

"His weirdo brain is just tuned different. He can always pinpoint the sneaky Drac hiding places, too."

"Better keep him around."

"Pretty sure Kobra wouldn't let me toss him even if wanted to."

Cherri laughed. "Just take the help where you can, brother."

Party leaned against the door jam, one hip cocked to the side and his arms folded across his chest. "You guys going to Hot Chimp's tonight?”

"Mhmm. I'm trying to convince Jet to go too. Lame ass stays home too much." Cherri leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his neck and shot Jet a pointed look.

"Come on Jet, I'll be there to protect you from the rowdy zone rats," Party said, grinning playfully and hitting him on the shoulder.

"Uh, pretty sure you are a rowdy zone rat, Party," Cherri laughed.

Party flipped his middle finger. "Hey fuck you Cola, I know how to behave myself."

Cherri leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and narrowed his eyes onto Party with one corner of his mouth turned up. "That scar on Pony's eyebrow says otherwise." 

Party threw his hands in the air and let them clap back against his thighs. Everyone always fucking brings that up. "That fucker got in the way of my hammer juggling, it was their own damn fault." He turned to Jet and added, "Cross my heart no juggling tonight." He dragged his finger twice across his chest to emphasize the words.

Jet laughed, full and loud. He didn’t do it often, as far as Party could tell, and it sounded like goddamn music. "Well without juggling, is it really worth my time?" Jet teased.

"I can definitely make sure that it's worth your time, Mister Jet Star," said Party with a jaunty fist on his hip. It was really hard not to flirt with him when the opportunity presented itself so beautifully.

Jet blushed and tucked one of his numerous stray curls behind his ear. "Yeah, okay. Could be fun, right?"

Party dropped the sass. "Seriously dude, I'll look out for you," he said. "It'll be a good time."

Jet nodded nervously, but gave Party a sincere smile that stirred up butterflies in his stomach. Motherfucking Jet Star, having the gall to do things like smile and nod his beautiful head in Party’s presence.

"See you two tonight, then," Party said with a wave, turning towards the door.

"Party, forgetting something?" Cherri said, sticking out his hand with grabby fingers.

Party frowned. "Oh shit! Yes, record, here you go." He dug in his bag and handed it over to Cherri. 

"Much thanks friend. Feel free to leave and do your pretty thing."

Party winked and left. After the rumble of the Trans Am started up, Jet looked at Cherri. 

"What pretty thing?"

Cherri smirked. "That 'joy all dolled up for a party is something to see."

\--

Kobra tapped his foot while Ghoul dragged a kohl liner across his eyes. His tongue peeked out from his lips as he focused on keeping the lines straight. Zone parties tended to be flamboyant affairs, full of color and life. Living outrageously felt like another way to stick it to BL/ind and their stark definition of good and bad. Painted faces and costumes and dancing that went against their idea of what gender looked like were all present in spades.

"Dude, you gotta hold still," Ghoul said.

"Takin' too long," Kobra grumbled.

Ghoul rolled his eyes. "I've been at it for two fucking minutes. Takes a little longer than that to get you pretty."

"Fuck that, I'm always pretty," Kobra said smugly.

"Party pretty, then." Ghoul flicked the liner up towards Kobra’s temple and added a second line in a brighter color.

"No one can get as pretty as Party can."

Ghoul stepped back, exasperated by Kobra’s petulance. "Fuck you, you know I meant pretty for a goddamn shindig."

"Wordplay is fun." Kobra smiled, knowing exactly how to push Ghoul’s buttons.

"You're such a fucking dork."

"Yeah, but you love it.” Kobra brushed a swath of Ghoul’s hair behind his ear with affection.

Ghoul leaned forward and planted a kiss on Kobra's temple, leaving behind a dark blue imprint.

"Man, I'm going to look like a fucking zombie leper by the end of the night, aren't I."

Ghoul laughed, deep and loud, and it brought an involuntary smile to Kobra’s face. "Yeah, but you love it," he said with a wink. He splashed some silver glitter on Kobra's cheek bones and stood up. "There, beautiful."

Kobra kissed Ghoul's cheek noisily and the shorter man giggled. "Whaddya wanna bet Party isn't ready yet?"

"If Jet's gonna be there, it'll be at least another twenty minutes."

Kobra wiggled his eyebrows playfully. "Wanna see where else that lipstick looks good?"

Ghoul was on his feet and dragging Kobra out of his seat when Party emerged from his room.

And he definitely did make an impression. His hands and forearms were pink from having recently reapplied his hair dye. Tight bright green jeans were tucked into his boots, and a ripped black tank top with arm holes cut clear to the waist flashed bits of skin with every step. Besides his favorite turquoise eyeshadow and glitter on his neck, he had added a trio of black stars to his temple.

"The star’s a subtle touch," Ghoul said. 

"I try," Party said, walking to the door with hips swinging. "Let's go fuckers!"

Under his breath, Kobra said to Ghoul, "Plenty of chances to test that lipstick once we get there."

\--

By the time the Trans Am arrived at Hot Chimp's place, the sun was fully set. It didn't matter, as large torches and strings of colorful lanterns made the outdoor space bright. A table of food, mostly improvised recipes that ranged from bland to hair-raising, sat against the side of the building, accompanied by a vat of mystery alcohol punch that was downright dangerous to the uninitiated. 

Show Pony immediately descended upon the three newcomers. Pony was the epitome of killjoy couture: blaring colors, impractical amounts of skin, and garish accessories made from trash discarded by city-dwellers who didn’t know any better.

"Well if isn't my three favorite beautiful boys! Seriously, what is in that zone 4 air? Cuter and cuter every time I see you these days!" Pony said before hugging Party tightly to their chest.

"Babe, don't even start, we all know who the queen of the zones is," Party teased. "What debauchery do you have planned for tonight?"

"Well it definitely involves your brother shirtless, possibly tied to that tree over there. Don't get too excited Ghoul, I'm just teasing. Although Kobra Kid should absolutely be shirtless more often," said Pony, eyes trailing up and down Kobra’s frame with interest that would have made Kobra blush if he wasn’t so used to Pony’s ever present fucking thirst. "But seriously, this might be a low key one on my part. Y'all'll have to make your own debauchery."

"Should be easy enough, Jet Star's comin'," Kobra said with a smirk at Party.

Party flashed a middle finger at his brother and turned back to Pony. "Hear Cherri's comin', too," he said.

"Well it has been a while since we've brought out the karaoke, get any alcohol in Cherri and he breaks out that pretty voice of his," said Pony. Fucking Cherri Cola and his stupid karaoke. "And that brings out the Cola groupies pretty quick. I swear, I've been in my fair share of group romps, but I've never seen anyone participate in one with as much stamina as that man. No groupie leaves unhappy, that's for sure."

"Speak of the fucking crows," Ghoul said, nodding at the horizon. 

Two motorcycles rumbled up to the house, drowning out even the blasting music. Cherri revved his engine dramatically before turning it off.

Watching Jet dismount from his bike was a thing of beauty, Party decided. He took off his helmet and shook his hair loose, then removed his gloves one long finger at a time, all the while grinning at Cherri for his childlike antics. The way his black jeans clung to his legs put his thighs on display when he swung his leg over the body of his motorcycle. It was like something ripped out of the trashy romance novels Kobra pretends he doesn’t read. 

Cherri and Jet approached the foursome, ignoring the huddle of killjoys who had taken a lusty interest in their arrival. 

“Party, lovely as always,” Cherri said. “And Pony, you are the image of divinity, I swear.”

“Don’t you play with me, Mister Cola,” Pony warned playfully. 

Cherri feigned ignorance. “Would I do such a thing?” Cherri offered Pony his arm and began to steer them away. “How ‘bout you show me what delicious inventions Chimp has come up with this time.”

Party wasn’t sure when, but Ghoul and Kobra had disappeared too. He smiled warmly at Jet, who seemed anxious his housemate had abandoned him. 

“What’re you worried for, friend?” Party teased. “Told you I’d protect you from the wolves.”

“Pretty sure you said from the zone rats,” Jet said.

“Yeah well, that gaggle over there is definitely a pack of wolves. Can’t let them sink their teeth in you, can we?” said Party, nodding to the group of rebels who were still eyeing Jet. 

Jet laughed nervously. “Yes, please don’t feed me to them.” 

Party cocked his head with a click of his tongue. “It’ll be hard, you’re looking pretty shiny tonight, and wolves do love shiny things.” 

“Pretty sure that’s magpies,” Jet said, eyes glittering.

“Quit correcting me! Just take the fucking compliment,” Party said, stomping his foot in pretend indignation. 

Jet ran his fingers gently across Party’s sparkling jawline. “You’re looking pretty shiny yourself.” 

Party was very aware of the goofy grin on his face. “Better watch what you say, a guy might get the wrong idea,” he teased softly.

Even in the firelight, Party could see him blushing, and it was downright charming. He took Jet’s hand and said, “Let me get you something to drink.” 

Without waiting for an answer, he tugged Jet towards the refreshments. “Now, this is your first real zone party, correct?” he asked, handing one cup to Jet. When Jet nodded, he continued, “You’re gonna wanna be careful with this. I’m warning you now, it’s stronger than it tastes.” 

Jet took an unfortunately large gulp and sputtered. “Really? Because it tastes pretty fucking strong.” 

“And there comes the danger,” Party laughed. 

“Blech. Just promise I don’t do anything dumb tonight?” asked Jet.

“Depends on the dumb thing,” Party said with a smirk. “But I’ll make sure you’re safe. Don’t want you stumbling out in the desert and getting lost.” 

Jet looked around the crowd, admiring the array of colors. It was a welcome change from his time with BL/ind. Still, he hadn’t been around this many people since his time on the front lines. He tried to force down the horrific images that popped into his brain, reminding himself sternly that was done, that he wasn’t one of them anymore. Logically he knew that, but his brain unhelpfully forgot that sometimes. 

Party noticed the sudden shift, the distant look in his eyes, and placed a gentle hand on his arm. Jet shook and blinked a few times before his gaze landed on Party’s. 

“You okay?” Party asked softly, his voice hinting his concern. “We can go somewhere quieter.”

Jet forced a brave smile. “Nah, maybe later. Show me around?”

So the pair walked a circle around the outer edges of the gathering space. Party introduced him to new people and pointed out various spots of interest. Jet’s favorite was the crack in a window awning, apparently another mishap of Party’s tendency to juggle wildly inappropriate tools. Party made a point to keep it light and lay off the flirting; the last thing he wanted was for Jet to feel pressured or overwhelmed. But he didn’t miss how, after relaying the story of Ghoul’s attempt to domesticate a jackrabbit, Jet let out unrestrained laughter and slipped his hand into Party’s with a squeeze.

Party’s favorite song started to play, and Pony appeared next to him. They skated backwards and gestured to Party as though reeling in a fish, and after pretending to shove his fingers down his throat and gag, he threw Jet a smile and skipped after Pony. 

Jet watched the pair, noting how perfectly they reacted to each other. Pony was unarguably mesmerizing, but Jet couldn’t take his eyes off Party. The way he flipped his bright red hair back and forth, swaying to the pounding music pouring from dust-encrusted speakers, was the definition of freedom. Care-free confidence radiated from him with every thrust of his hips, every shimmy of his shoulders, every lyric that poured from his mouth. As the chorus hit, Kobra popped up next to his brother, and together they pogoed up and down, every fiber of their beings absorbed in the moment and enslaved by the music. It was one of the most raw, emotional things Jet had ever witnessed. 

“Those brothers sure do make a motherfucking sight, huh?” Ghoul said next to him. 

Jet hadn’t noticed him arrive, but the curl of Ghoul’s lips told him that Ghoul had witnessed him gawking at Party. He tried to play it cool and took a long drink from his cup, deflecting Ghoul’s attempt to fuck with him. “You and Kobra, huh?” 

Ghoul’s gaze at the dance floor intensified and he licked his lips. “Fucking right. What can I say, addicts can always spot other addicts.” He winked at Jet and, as the song ended, prowled after Kobra like a predator seeking its prey. Kobra turned in time to catch the deliberate progress Ghoul was making towards him and they met with a brutal crash of lips.

Party took in the sight and simply rolled his eyes. He found Jet’s gaze, and his breathless grin made Jet’s heart beat faster with every second it took him to return to his side.

“My brother is a horndog,” Party panted, still out of breath from the exertion of the dance. “It’s so much fucking fun living with those two.” 

“Emphasis on the fucking, I guess,” Jet said, ignoring Party’s groan and watching the two again. Ghoul broke the kiss by shoving Kobra’s shoulders roughly away from him, and closed the distance between them again with a sharp hand in his hair. He looked like he wanted to absolutely fucking devour the taller man. “Are they always so fucking violent?” he asked.

“Fuck Jet, don’t make me think about it,” Party squawked, a grimace immediately taking up residence on his face.

The alcohol he’d just gulped down hit Jet quickly. “I know what’ll distract you,” he said. “Too tired for another dance?”

Party’s expression lightened. “Never too tired for you, Mister Jet Star.” With a sharp poke to Jet’s chest, he added. “But no more about those goddamn delinquents.”

Jet grabbed his hand and led him back out to the dance floor. Once he got there, he realized he had no idea how to dance like this. Not many chances, or willing partners, available to dance on the front lines, he thought darkly. But after watching Ghoul and Kobra, he’d been so caught up in the desire to be absolutely submerged in Party that it didn’t occur to him he was definitely going to make a fool of himself. 

But Party recognized the hesitation and took over. He placed Jet’s hands on his waist and wrapped his own arms around Jet’s neck. He swung his hips, letting Jet feel how they moved, and finally Jet let his body relax and followed along. They careened together, and Party threw his head back. The howl that erupted from his lips startled Jet enough that he lost the beat, but Party corrected it, laughed, and let his hips gyrate more energetically, forcing Jet to follow. 

He hadn’t necessarily meant to, but Jet’s fingers found the opening in Party’s shirt and grasped at the bare skin there. Party’s breath hitched and he erased the gap between their bodies, crushing his to Jet’s, never stopping the movement of his hips. The unexpected action pulled a gasp from Jet’s lips before he could help it, which only encouraged Party. He nuzzled his face in Jet’s neck, his hair, the curve of his jaw. Jet splayed his hands flat across his back and arched his fingertips, nails dragging soft lines into his flushed skin. 

There was only so much Party could handle, and that was it. He moved his hands to Jet’s face and kissed him fiercely as the crowd continued to throb around them. It was messy, it was perfect. It was another scene from Kobra’s trashy fucking novels. But Party didn’t care, because he’d be damned if it wasn’t the most electrifying kiss he’d ever had. 

The music cut out with a squeal and the partygoers around them groaned. The whine brought the two back to themselves, disconnecting their lips but keeping their bodies close. Jet’s face broke into a wide, toothy smile as he took in Party’s blissed out expression. 

But they both turned their attention up when Cherri’s growl erupted from the speakers. Apparently Pony had, very inconsiderately, decided it was karaoke time. The ‘joys who had eyed Jet when he first arrived clustered around the picnic table turned into a makeshift stage, with their attention fully focused on Cherri now. 

“Change in venue?” Party said in Jet’s ear. He shivered at the rush of air and nodded, letting himself be led away from the dancefloor. Party cut a path through the people and headed straight to the Trans Am, hopping up on the hood with his boots resting on the bumper, and tugged Jet between his knees. He raised his cup and clinked it against Jet’s, downed the alcohol left, and tossed both cups (ignoring that Jet’s wasn’t fully empty) into the desert. 

"You know," Party started, "you've done pretty well for your first zone shindig."

"Oh yeah? How's that?" Jet could hear the slur beginning to attach itself to his words.

"Well," he said theatrically, raising his hand to tick off the list on his fingers. "Dramatic entrance, and lemme just say you look goddamn fetching on that bike. Tried Chimp's famous scorpion balls without throwing up. Drank your weight in punch without throwing up. Talked to Ghoul without throwing up." He paused as a giggle escaped his lips. "Grinded with a hot slut on the dancefloor. Fucking crushed a make out sesh."

"Fucking crushed it, did I?" Jet smirked.

"Oh shut up Jet, you know you've got the lips of a god."

Jet blushed and his pulse quickened. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten that complement, but that didn't mean he didn't still love to hear it. He'd hated them growing up, but had quickly learned how to use them to his advantage. The sense of fearlessness that came with his buzz allowed him to pull out those tricks now without a second thought.

"What, these lips?" He teased Party with a ghosted kiss on his neck, a barely there nip at his earlobe.

"You're going to be the goddamn death of me," Party groaned, snaking a hand into his curls to encourage more. Jet attached his lips to his shoulder firmly enough to coax a lingering mark from Party’s pale skin. A needy sound fell from Party’s mouth as he pulled Jet forward by the belt and locked their lips together. 

This kiss was less frantic than the one shared on the dance floor. Jet held Party to him, fingers swirling into the hair at the nape of his neck as he nudged his tongue against Party’s lips. They moved deliberately together, slowly exploring the new tastes and sensations, leaving no corner forgotten. Party slipped his fingers under the hem of Jet’s shirt, brushing cold skin against hot, and Jet clenched his hand in his hair and tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. Party dragged his fingers higher, gripping his back much the same way Jet had on the dance floor. Jet gasped against his mouth as the semi he’d been sporting since the kiss on the dance floor became painfully erect.

“More?” Party breathed, moving his lips to graze Jet’s ear. 

“Yes, more,” hardly a strangled whisper that tumbled from his lips. Party’s mouth connected with Jet’s neck and his small teeth nipped at the skin roughly before soothing the spot with a gentle tongue. When Party’s fingers dipped just below the back of his jeans, Jet moaned lowly, fully aware he was losing control of the situation.

Jet’s senses were overwhelmed by everything Party. The smell of sweat and sun in his hair, the feel of the cool skin on his back, the taste of booze and persimmons on his tongue. He wanted to live here and die here, or at least never forget the way they fit so perfectly together.

His fingers gripped at Party’s knee and he felt Party’s hot breath keen against his neck, so he moved his hand higher. A low needy growl escaped Party’s lips and sent vibrations straight to his belly. Jet forced their mouths together again, harder and faster than before, teeth and tongues colliding in a way that made his knees go weak. Party hiked his knee up to wrap around Jet’s hips and tug him closer, for the first time bringing their erections in contact. A shock pulsed thought his veins and he moaned. He was sure others heard him but was fully unable to care. Party’s fingers paused at Jet’s belt, whose hips bucked up to meet them. 

“Come on Jet, tell me what you want,” Party purred.

It had been so long since he’d done this, been with another person. His body thrummed with all of the possibilities--everything, he wanted everything. Every touch, every emotion, every gasp. And he wanted it with this man, right fucking now.

“I want to fucking touch you,” he said as his hands grasped at the buttons on Party’s pants and fumbled them open. Party threw his head back violently as Jet’s fingers found his dick, and he took the opportunity to attach his mouth firmly to Party’s throat. 

“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” Party growled, hungry eyes boring into Jet’s to punctuate his demand, and laced his fingers in Jet’s curls. He pushed Jet’s hair away from his face and placed his forehead against his, moaning into Jet’s face while his hand pumped up and down. It was so feral, so completely indifferent to anything happening around them, and Jet’s cock twitched with every sound. He swirled his thumb over the tip and increased his speed.

Party bucked wildly into his hand as his vocalizations became shorter and higher, the sound mixing with Jet’s own heaving breaths. “Come for me,” he murmured, eyes blown wide with the need to watch him come undone. With a loud gasp and a final tug on Jet’s hair, he came hard into Jet’s hand, spilling semen onto his shirt and jacket. His forehead fell to the crook of Jet’s neck and he shivered as Jet coaxed out the last dregs of his orgasm.

When he looked up, his eyelids were half closed and his face was flushed. Jet hadn’t expected the thirst still present in his eyes, and the intensity made him dizzy. 

Party tucked himself back into his pants with shaking hands, hopped off the hood, and grabbed Jet’s wrist, tugging him around to the side of the car that fully faced the desert. He pushed Jet against the door with a firm hand on his chest and kissed him fiercely, grinding one leg between Jet’s in a way that elicits a throaty groan. He pushed his shirt up and nipped and licked his way down from his chest to his belt while his hands slid down Jet’s bare sides. Watching Party descend down his body, feeling his teeth and his tongue on the sensitive skin of his ribs, made Jet’s dick strain painfully against his jeans. 

Party stopped when he landed on his knees, face level with Jet’s belt. Jet’s chest heaved as Party looked up at him and he was sure it had to be illegal to look like that. The dye on his hands contrasted with Jet’s pale belly in such a lovely way, and his mouth fell open in a crooked grin that Jet was dying to fill. Party’s eyes never left Jet’s as he undid his pants, pulled his throbbing dick free, and encased it fully in his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Jet bit out sharply, one hand tangling in Party’s hair and the other gripping whatever part of the car that he could. “Shit, oh shit, Party.”

Party slid his lips down Jet’s cock and over the sensitive head. Jet’s free hand pounded against the car. It had been literal years since he’d had someone’s mouth wrapped around him, and even then, he didn’t remember it feeling this good.

Party’s lips popped off of him and licked thoroughly up the underside. “Keep that filthy mouth going. I wanna hear you fucking scream, Jet Star.” 

He swallowed Jet again and bobbed his head at an angle that brought Jet’s tip against the back of his mouth. “Son of a bitch,” he groaned. He didn’t mean to buck his hips but Party didn’t stop him, instead merely wrapped one hand around the base of his dick to keep the action from choking him. When Party’s hand began to move in sync with his mouth, Jet put both hands in his hair, needing something to to tug. 

He melted against the car in an attempt to stay standing, but Party humming around him sends sparks through his bones and causes desperate pants to fall from his lips. “Oh fuck, fuck, Party, I’m fucking coming,” he hissed, and with three more pumps shot his load into the back of Party’s throat. He hardly recognized the deep groan that followed as something that could come from him; he was sure he’d never be able to replicate it again. 

As Party slowed and finally pulled away, Jet could see the cum on his mouth. “Motherfucker,” Jet breathed, soft and appreciative, and reached out to wipe a finger gently across Party’s lips. He stood up and kissed Jet softly, letting Jet taste himself there. Jet cradled Party’s face in his hands and rubbed his cheeks softly with his thumbs. His eyes roamed Party’s face, all swollen lips and bright eyes, and whispered, “You’re fucking beautiful.”

Party grinned and turned his head enough to place a kiss on Jet’s palm. “And you look like you’ve been thoroughly fucked,” he smirked. 

“Well gee, wonder whose fault that is,” said Jet. He let go of Party’s face to tuck himself back into his pants. “So how many people you think saw that?”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Party said, following with a whispered, “Everyone should see how beautiful you look when you come.” He placed a quick kiss on Jet’s cheek and took a step back. “Besides, that’s hardly considered PG at a zone shindig. You should see the costume parties.” 

Jet barked out a laugh. “Might need a bit more practice before I’m ready for that.”

“Oooh Mister Jet Star, we can definitely make that happen.”


	2. I got the answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I do," Party said. With a smirk, he added, "Despite my reputation, I actually do not go around giving blow jobs behind cars to just any ol’ guy."
> 
> A wide smile brightened Jet’s face. "Well then I guess I'm glad you chose me."

The ride home at dawn cleared his head. Being on the bike always did. 

Cherri had had a rusted old Indian leaned up against the radio station that he claimed didn’t run, and told Jet he could keep it if he was able to get it running. Safer to always have an out, he’d said. 

Jet hadn’t left the station at all the first two weeks he was there. The revelation that BL/ind didn’t make his choices for him anymore felt like a chain had been removed from his neck and he could finally breathe. But with that freedom came terror. He had mostly resigned himself to his position as corporate war puppet until he watched that kid’s head disconnect from his neck, and then his only goal had been distancing himself as far as possible from the army and everything BL/ind believed. He hadn’t been his own person in five years, didn’t know what he wanted or who he was, outside of being a killer and an enabler and a monster. 

It was almost like detoxing. He cried and he puked and he slept and only drank water or ate anything when Cherri reminded him, or forced him when necessary. Then came the existential black hole that was his new freedom, and a few days of literally staring at empty desert, desperately hoping the answer to what he was supposed to do would appear in the heat rising from the sand. 

And then Cherri showed him the motorcycle. And then it was operational. And then he started the engine and flew across the desert and realized what freedom truly meant, realized the chance he had to pack his shit away and start over. So he chose his name. He chose an American flag for his jacket, because freedom was what America had stood for once. And then he chose to move on.

He spent one solid night with Cherri, from dusk clear until dawn, purging his shame from his system. As much as he wanted to forget everything he’d done, he found that spilling his secrets dispelled some of the contempt he had for himself. They were still things he had to live with, things he’d never forget, things that woke him up at night. But for every awful thing he shared, Cherri made him say something that he wanted: wanted to be, or wanted to experience, or simply wanted. And in between the jokes about wanting pizza or air conditioning, he found some semblance of a person that he could live with being. 

One of the things he wanted was to feel like he belonged, like he was valued just for being him. It had been denied to him for so long as a soldier, where it was only valued how many bodies he could patch up or how many enemies he could kill. And as embarrassing as some of his experiences at the party were, there were things that lifted him up, too. Singing his heart out to old hair metal karaoke with Cherri and Ghoul and Hot Chimp was one of them. Bonding with Show Pony over 90’s pro wrestling was another. And the look in Party’s eyes when he pulled him close by his jacket and kissed him goodnight definitely counted. 

\--

Cherri didn’t return home until the sun had set the following night. Jet didn’t mind having the place to himself - sometimes he flipped the frequency and did little broadcasts of his own, playing music he found in Cherri’s collection that matched whatever he was feeling. He’d had one playing when Cherri got home, but he didn’t say anything. He just went straight to the cupboard and grabbed a can of cold ravioli, opened it, and shoveled a large forkful in his mouth. When Jet asked him if he’d enjoyed himself, he simply grinned and flopped in his chair. 

“Saw Kobra Kid and Party Poison this afternoon,” Cherri said nonchalantly later, after the can was empty. 

Jet kept his eyes on the pants he was trying to stitch up and tried not to sound overly interested when he replied. “Oh yeah? Where?” 

“Trading at Tommy Chow Mein’s.”

“You where all the way out at Tommy’s? Eventually I’m going to have to know what you fucking did last night, Cola.” 

“You’d never believe it, dude,” Cherri said with a laugh. He shrugged and added, “Party was in a good mood. And played it way cooler than you just did, didn’t ask me about you or anything.” 

Jet frowned and set aside his sewing. “Isn’t it a bad thing if he didn’t ask about me?”

“Nah, dude. The bounce in his step said plenty,” Cherri said, spinning his chair to look at Jet. “Well, that, and Kobra told me he’d definitely needed a good fuck.”

Jet looked at his boots and couldn’t help the little grin that appeared on his face. “Yeah, me too.”

Cherri crossed his arms and waited. When Jet didn’t look up, he said, “That it?”

“What? I did. You know what it’s like,” Jet shrugged. 

“Well then, I’m glad you had a good fuck,” Cherri said, clapping his hands down on his thighs. 

Jet sighed. “What do you want to say, Cherri?”

“You looked happy last night,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe a little better than just a good fuck might do.” 

Jet felt words bubbling, every thought he’d had on his ride home coming to the surface. The good ones, but also the thoughts that scared him: worry that the gang was nice to him because of Party and his status to them, or worse, that Party had got what he wanted from Jet and didn’t want anything else he had to give. The same feelings he’d had in fucking high school, when he had no confidence and felt unsure about everything. 

He sighed and pushed his hair back from his forehead. “What if I’m not enough?”

Cherri leaned forward to put his hand on Jet’s shoulder. “You’ve always been enough, brother.” He slouched back into his chair and continued, “If you need me to say it, I will. Everyone was glad to have you there, Party definitely included. It felt like you’ve been with us all along.” 

Jet let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding while Cherri spoke. “Thanks. I did need to hear it.” 

“Yeah, I know you did. I did too. And believe it or not, I had a very similar conversation with Party when he came out here.”

“You did fucking not,” Jet scoffed. 

“Oh you bet I did, dude. He went through some shit too, you know. But you saw him, he found all that confidence, right here in the zones.” When Jet finally looked up at him again, he added, “And he likes you. If you don’t feel confidence in yourself yet, let him feel it for you for now.” 

Jet scrunched his face, trying to keep the strong relief that washed over him from leaking out his eyes. Instead, he laughed. “That was such a bromance fucking moment, Cola.”

Cherri’s deep laugh settled warmly in Jet’s stomach. “Yeah, let’s not make a habit of it.”

\--

Party didn’t make any appearances at Cherri Cola’s for several days after the bash. Give it time to breath, he decided. 

The day after, when they’d finally gotten home and over their hangovers, Kobra had slapped him on the shoulder, but hadn’t said anything after that. No teasing, no questions. Ghoul didn’t play by those rules and definitely gave him shit about the cum stain on Jet’s shirt, but it felt brotherly in a way that he appreciated. Not just giving him shit for the hell of it, but in his own Ghoul-ish way saying he was happy for him. 

Space was never a bad idea. Having time to turn the same thoughts over and over in your mind was almost always hell, though. 

Any time a group of killjoys was in one place, he tended to make himself the center of attention. It was one of his hang ups from the time he spent under BL/ind’s thumb, when he’d been out of control and out of his mind and had simply faded into the grey of the city. At parties especially, he drank a lot, danced a lot, and talked a whole lot of shit. Sometimes, when he let himself get too bottled up, he started fights. When things went well, it was a way to channel all of his anger into something destructively satisfying. When things went poorly, it was a way to punish himself for all the pain he caused. Either way, he won.

But he hadn’t felt the need to do any of that to excess with Jet around. Jet’s impulses seemed to be the exact opposite of Party’s--he wanted to chill, talk, definitely not get in a fight. The most destructive thing he did was push Ghoul off the karaoke platform when he made a lewd gesture at his shirt, and even that looked like half an accident. Just being around people seemed enough for Jet, and that grounded Party in a healthy way. 

But alcohol made people do some dumb shit. Like starting stupid fucking fights. Or fucking random guys. And it was Jet’s first zone party; it was hard not to think that maybe the sex was just a result of too much shitty alcohol and too much time alone in the desert. That maybe Party was just a willing warm body. Or, even worse, that he sobered up and regretted it. 

So he decided to let it breath. Maybe because he wanted Jet to have time to decide shit for himself. Maybe because he was afraid of the answer.

He threw himself into chores and repairs around the diner instead. Fixed the drip in the kitchen ceiling, washed every last scrap of fabric he could find--except a crusty ass shirt he found in Ghoul’s room because it very probably had his brother on it and seeing it scarred his very soul--and gave his baby a little extra attention.

So he was in the garage cleaning out the intake manifold on the Trans Am when he heard an approaching engine. Kobra’s surveillance system should have warned him if it caught anything nefarious near them, but always better safe than dead. He put a hand on his blaster and stood on his toes to get a look out the dirty garage window. A dark motorcycle grew closer, and Party unclenched his fist when he realized it was definitely not BL/ind issued. But their friends would have made an effort to radio before just stopping by, so there was still a good chance it was a stranger scoping for shit to steal. 

He pulled his bandana over his face and took his gun from his thigh, raising it before stepping out of the garage. One punk on a bike could be scared away. 

It stopped short thirty yards from the garage and killed the engine. The sun shadowed whoever it was and it annoyed Party that he couldn’t get a clear view. 

“Cola, if that’s you it’d better be a motherfucking emergency, otherwise I oughta shoot you in the fucking face,” he yelled, voice dripping with menace. After all, threats are good for fucking with your friends just as well as for scaring away trespassers.

The visitor flipped up their visor and yelled back, “Dude, it’s fucking Jet Star! I’m gonna put my hands down, please don’t shoot me, alright?”

Party yanked off his bandanna. “Shit, Jet, what do you think you’re doing just riding up on us without warning? That’s how you get a fucking laser to the foot.”

Jet dismounted and approached Party, tugging off his helmet once he was sure he knew it was him. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think,” he said. 

“I’ll give Cola half the blame, he really should’ve taught you that.” Cola would have been pretty pissed if he’d shot Jet, but would have served him right for not telling him basic protocol. Party shaded his eyes with the gun in his hand so he could see him better. “Didn’t think you went further west than Dr. D’s, you were about the last person I expected.”

“Figured maybe it was time to broaden my comfort zone just a little,” Jet said, finally reaching him. “And I’m sorry for not radioing. Figured you’d recognize my bike and have a slightly less hostile greeting for me.”

“Dude, your motorcycles all look the same to me,” said Party as he waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s basically BL/ind or not-BL/ind and that’s as far as I go. Talk to fucking Kobra if you wanna geek about your two-wheeled death machine.”

“That’s a strong opinion,” Jet said with a grin. “Figured someone who likes cars so much would be into any motor.” 

Party shook his head emphatically. “No way, motherfucker. Those things scare the shit out of me.”

“I wasn’t a fan until a few months ago,” Jet said. He turned to look fondly at his bike. “But that machine kinda saved me.” 

And Party did understand that. To him, riding fast and hard with windows down and music loud cleared his mind no matter what. He felt calm and sure and exactly where he was supposed to be. 

He knew better than to insult another person’s safety net, especially out here, so he changed course. “So what brings you into our neck of the zone then?” he asked. 

Jet bit his lip and looked down. “You really have to ask that?”

“Nah,” Party said. More softly, he added, “But I didn’t want to be a presumptuous dick.” 

He’d wondered all week if Jet’s actions at the party were driven by the alcohol rather than actual feelings towards him. If it was just sex and he was out here today running errands for Cola, he wanted to give him an easy out. But Jet’s reaction implied a little hurt, a little fear, and Party felt like a dick but was actually a little relieved.

He moved into the shade of the garage and leaned against the workbench. “So tell me what you’re thinking, Star.”

Jet shuffled inside as well, hands in his pockets and kicking up sand with the toes of his boots as he went. He was hesitating, stalling. Party didn’t want him to hide, and didn’t want him to feel he had to hide from Party. He reached out and put a hand lightly on his arm. 

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he said gently. “I just need you to say it.” 

“Thinking I botched my entrance a little,” Jet joked weakly. But he finally looked up to meet Party’s eyes. “Thinking I wanted to see you.” 

“Thinking I’m glad you’re here,” Party said as he pushed off the workbench. 

“I just-” Jet started. Party didn’t move or even consider talking, he wanted Jet to do this on his own. After a deep breath, he continued, “I like being around you. And I guess I hope you like being around me, too.” 

"I do," Party said. With a smirk, he added, "Despite my reputation, I actually do not go around giving blow jobs behind cars to just any ol’ guy."

A wide smile brightened Jet’s face. "Well then I guess I'm glad you chose me."

"How could I not?" Party brushed a piece of Jet's hair behind his ear. "You're sweet. And gorgeous. And a whole lotta fun to get dirty with." More seriously, he added, "And it's easy to be around you. It's like I don't have to worry about being anything. Not a fearless killjoy, not a hardass leader. No fronts, no bullshit. Just Party Poison."

"I don't want you to have to be anything but Party Poison,” Jet said, taking a step forward into Party’s space and placing a hand on his waist. “I'd like to get to know that guy.”

Party leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to Jet's. “I’m right here. May be a good time to get acquainted.”

Jet placed a hand on the side of Party's face to tug him back to his mouth. They melted into each other, and it was gentle and sweet and slow. Party rubbed a thumb gently over Jet’s waist, not asking for anything, just letting him know he was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fluff! I kinda wanted to add another sex scene to the end there, but it was so syrupy sweet and it felt a little, like, cheap? Idk, I might add one more chapter eventually with an alternate/additional ending with some pron. I'm leaning towards no right now (1/25/20) but that's partially because everything I've tried to write for it has been coming out blah. But let me know if you feel strongly one way or the other!  
> 


End file.
